


stars in a movie

by tonyang (kurusui)



Category: PRISTIN (Band), SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 02:45:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13626951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurusui/pseuds/tonyang
Summary: Sometimes it takes ten years to realize.





	stars in a movie

**Author's Note:**

> friendly warning: this is self/friends indulgent.
> 
> this is the other half of [juliet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10576113) (explaining the absence of 2016 below), and based on an interpretation of them in [breathe in breathe out](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10576113) & [tunnel of gravity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10487568).
> 
> (other recommended listening: munich & rainy zurich - the fray)
> 
>    
>  _when we meet eyes_  
>  _like we’re stars in a movie, beautiful_  
>  _i hope this moment continues—_
> 
> day6 - [man in a movie](https://popgasa.com/2017/05/07/day6-man-in-a-movie/)

 

 

 

**2015.**

 

Nayoung receives an unexpected phone call at 2:20 in the morning. Most of her calls are from her family, and her parents are never awake this late. She doesn’t want to pick it up at first, bleary-eyed and back aching, but Yaebin makes some kind of noise in the bunk beside her and Nayoung thinks she had better decline the call at least.

“Hello?” she mumbles somewhere into her cellphone.

“Hey, hey, I just want you to know,” the sound of a voice she recognizes says, “that I’m stressed out of my mind at the moment, don’t debut,” he says. “Don’t be the leader.”

Nayoung has never wanted to be a leader. From the beginning, she was content to follow behind Jiyoung and Jungah’s footsteps, until that wish was made to fade away.

Seungcheol, as far as she’s ever known, was vocal about being excited for the role. More than Jonghyun, at least. Even then, she’s always seen hints of self-doubt lingering behind the facade. Nayoung saw that in herself and said she’ll fake it until she makes it. Seungcheol saw that in her and told her there was no need for that.

Ever since then, she’s been trying to internalize it.

“Are you okay?” Nayoung asks softly.

“Seungcheol, stop this,” someone else says firmly, someone who tells her hasty apologies and gives her promises of explanations later.

It was supposed to be an expression of regret, a warning against going through terrible things that he had already encountered, and upon reflection, she thinks it was also supposed to protect her. But if there was one thing she wanted to believe, it was that he always had faith in her.

It rings in her ears long past when Joshua hangs up the phone, but not for the reason he meant it to.

When she wants to give up, she thinks of that, how that person’s words have never matched up with his actions, how endlessly dedicated to his dream he always has been. It’s easy to say nothing was worth it, and it’s hardest to let go.

 

 

 

Seungcheol calls again in the daylight. Sorry, he says, for waking her up at 7, but it’s the only time he has today. “I won’t make it to the company and I can’t apologize over text.”

Nayoung wants to say thank you, for making time for her. “It’s fine,” she answers, rubbing her eyes. “I was already awake.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

Nayoung doesn’t reply, focusing on the sound of a car driving by outside.

“I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, and I don’t feel that way. About me or about you.”

“Don’t worry,” Nayoung says, “I understand.”

Seungcheol, on the other end, she can only imagine, is getting his face makeup retouched, practicing dance moves subconsciously, trying to cope with the sleep he didn’t get last night. “I’m scared that you don’t. And I’m scared that it hurt you or made you worried. It’s my fault.”

“You don’t have to be strong all the time,” she says.

He’s quiet. “Don’t I?”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

In the background, a director is shouting commands for where to move the camera, and people are running around the set. “Are you just..?”

“I would never. You’re a good leader, everyone tells me that.” Nayoung grins, and maybe it makes its way through the phone line because Seungcheol sighs and it sounds something like relief and weight off his shoulders. “Good luck today.”

“Thanks. Good luck to you too, Nayoung.”

Nayoung shakes her head. “I have nothing to do today.”

“When am I gonna be able to say this back to you and have you accept it?” he asks, and she exhales sharply, hit in a sore spot.

“I want to know too.”

 

 

 

**2017.**

 

“Can I ask a favor?”

Nayoung turns to the receptionist, nodding fervently. “Of course.”

“Do you mind watching the front for a little bit? Like, maybe ten - or fifteen minutes?”

The receptionist’s name is Lee Eunjung. She’s been working at Pledis for a year or so, Nayoung knows her a little. She’s really friendly, out of it sometimes maybe, but there isn’t a real reason to doubt her.

“I asked my boyfriend to bring my purse from home and he’s driving up soon, but the last time he hung around the door security told him to leave, so I want to wait for him,” Eunjung says earnestly. “I promise I wouldn’t ask you to take calls or anything, I swear there’s nothing to do around here at this time of the day.”

The five minutes, Nayoung thinks then, is extra allotted time. But that’s okay.

“Sure,” she answers, because she believes in favors and being nice and accommodating. Eunjung lights up.

Nayoung sits in her rolling chair when she leaves, plays with the height adjustment and spins around. It is kind of dull, just sitting here, but she’s easily captivated by these little things. This is probably why everyone in Pristin makes fun of her.

It must be monotonous as a full-time job, though. Nayoung runs her hands over the desk, examining everything on it. There are leaflets and pens scattered all over - Eunjung isn’t a very organized receptionist evidently, or at least she puts off cleaning - but it’s personalized, too. Eunjung has placed cute stickers along the photo frame on the right, lining a picture of her and her family.

Nayoung imagines Eunjung’s life, and then she imagines living it.

“Hi, welcome to Pledis Entertainment,” Nayoung recites. “How can I help you?” She picks up the handset and holds it up to her ear, and then the beeping startles her and she lets it rattle back onto the base.

She points to the elevator. “The CEO’s office is that way, do you have an appointment? No? You’ll have to come back another time.” The mystery guest in front of her is mad, but she puts on her most polite face. “Thank you for visiting.”

There really is only so much to do if no one needs to talk to her. The back wall of Eunjung’s desk is covered in post-it notes with pen doodles on them. Nayoung draws a little puppy face on one and sticks it up with her signature at the bottom corner.

“Oh, my hair is so frizzy today,” she says, straightening it with her fingers.

“I don’t think so,” someone says skeptically, and Nayoung jumps in her seat.

“You scared me,” she says, hand on her chest, as Seungcheol enters the room, settling in a chair in the waiting area. He drops a bag of what she presumes to be dinner leftovers on the coffee table in front of him.

He turns towards her. “I was afraid when I saw you at that desk, like I was in an alternate universe or something.”

Being startled ruined everything. Nayoung realizes she’s broken character. “Sorry! Welcome to Pledis! What do you need?”

Seungcheol holds a finger up, thinking - “I have an appointment.”

“Great,” she says brightly. “Who are you meeting this afternoon?”

“The sec-”

Seungcheol stops.

Nayoung looks at him, confused. “What?”

“Never mind,” he says decisively. “Definitely never mind.”

Seungcheol takes out his phone and scrolls a little bit. Nayoung watches patiently as he doesn’t say anything and wonders if he’s waiting for someone, or something. She kind of wants to ask why he’s here, but there’s always that hesitancy. So, not now.

It’s that affectionate smile she sees when he’s typing in his group chat that leaves her a little bit starstruck.

Seungcheol leaps out of his chair without warning, approaching her desk, folding his arms and resting them on the counter, above the height of her head.

“Where is the lady that’s supposed to be here?”

“Oh, she- she went to the _restroom_ ,” Nayoung says, pronouncing her words to signal to Seungcheol that she doesn’t mean that literally.

He gives her a knowing look back. “Ahh, I see. Well, I hope she returns soon. Or not.”

Nayoung smiles.

Soonyoung pokes his head through the door, giving Nayoung a wave but without time for further acknowledgement. “Hyung.” They have this exchange through eye contact, wordless communication that comes from knowing each other. Nayoung envies it.

“I have to leave first,” Seungcheol ends up saying to her. “I’ll see you around.”

“Bye,” she says, making herself smile this time, suddenly resentful of the fact that she has nothing to do, no obligations. This is not the standard she wants to be at. After Eunjung comes back, she’ll have to go practice, not anything specific, but she’ll commit to some routine. Nayoung will work harder, and Pristin will have more schedules, and then neither of them will have time for each other.

Seungcheol takes his arms off the desk like it’s nothing, Soonyoung and everything (oh, there are so many strings- ) attached slowly pulling him away from her. She watches him dash out the doorway, into the hallway, but when he’s out of sight, the door itself closes gently, with care, and it runs her throat dry.

It feels like pining, but she doesn’t want to put a label to it.

 

 

 

**2018.**

 

It is impossible to forget about her, even as they don’t speak, even as they pass by each other like dandelion seeds in the wind.

Seungcheol has somewhere to be today.

“Can you come with me, Jeonghan? Please?”

Jeonghan sighs. “Can you stop clinging to me, Seungcheol.”

Seungcheol has to let go of his sleeve now. “Please...”

The morning is cold, but he’s wide awake. Jeonghan, meanwhile, is dead set on rolling up in his blankets for the next few hours, so it seems like it really should be kind of pointless to be asking right now. But everyone knows Seungcheol has a stubborn streak.

“I don’t want to, Seungcheol-ah, feed your own stupid crush.”

Seungcheol laughs, something stirring in him uneasily. “I don’t have a-”

Jeonghan, playing on his phone: “Sure.”

“Hey! Believe me!”

“Then just go? By yourself?”

“I’m embarrassed,” he says, the words falling out of his mouth. Jeonghan is somehow really good at drawing conclusions out of people, and Seungcheol hates it, but maybe this is why Jeonghan is the only one he asked.

“Then shouldn’t that tell you something,” Jeonghan says like it’s a fact, not a question.

“No.”

Jeonghan pulls the covers over his head. “Have fun.”

 

 

 

Seungcheol drags himself out of the dorms soon enough, pulls the address up on his phone, thinks of - _My mother said any of you are welcome whenever you’d like,_ an informal invitation. It was a private invitation, but at this point it’s directed to so many people it means almost nothing. Relativity is incredible.

It’s that “almost” that has him standing in front of the restaurant now, thinking.

 

(“She won’t even be there,” Jeonghan points out from under the blanket while Seungcheol is changing his clothes. “Why are you so afraid?”

“Doesn’t that make it scarier?”

“Ahahaha, you’re _so funny_.”)

 

In the end, in the bitter end, he walks ahead, away. Jeonghan will make fun of him but maybe he’ll take pity on him too, for being such a child. Strangely, it was easier to make this work before. It was - it was like, “Hey, we’ll be in the area anyway, so why don’t we stop in? We don’t always get the chance, you know. Asan is a far drive.” It was planned and something to look forward to, but now - now, it’s more like there are too many options and not enough excuses.

Now if he’s here, it’s for a reason.

“Next time, when we’re all here,” Seungcheol says to himself, talking things through, and he makes for the intersection. On the corner, the other side of the street, he sees someone he recognizes in a red snapback.

The walk light turns on and she meets him where he is, laughing because he looks surprised to see her. Park Siyeon lifts her mask off her mouth and says, “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Junghyun-ah, hey.”

She crosses her arms. “Did you come from Nayoung unnie’s new restaurant? Did you eat a lot, I bet you did.”

“That’s actually a funny story,” Seungcheol starts, and she waits, and he says, “No.” Siyeon has that ridiculous sparkle in her eye, that one that always makes him feel like she’s the one in charge.

“Come on,” she says, pulling him by the arm. He lets her. “But first-” Siyeon pulls the bucket hat off of his head. “You can’t make a good impression wearing that.”

 

 

 

**2019.**

 

Seungcheol thinks maybe she’s on the other side of the crowd onstage, but he doesn’t go to find her. He doesn’t even look for her, just angles his eyes to the audience and the lights and the members around him. Still, he wonders whether she was searching for him too.

 _“I just want to know if I’m wanted”_ echoes in his head, and he thinks of how much more he meant than that.

On the day after, Seungcheol goes to the recording studio to bring Jihoon a sandwich when the door opens and he runs into it.

“Ah, sorry,” Nayoung says hurriedly, pulling the door back towards her.

“Hi,” he says, shocked, stilled.

“Hi,” Nayoung replies. Her voice is kind of surprised, but empty, muted.

Jihoon sits in the producer’s chair, unimpressed. “The sandwich, hyung.”

He stumbles as he remembers, and the paper it’s wrapped in rustles in his hands. “Oh, right, sorry. Here you are.”

Nayoung still holds the metal door handle, the open angle a fraction of what it was before. “Bye,” she says, tentatively.

“Oh,” Seungcheol says, “goodbye, then.” Jihoon looks at him, and then sighs.

“Bye, Nayoung noona. You did a good job today.”

The door opens wide, and then slowly comes to a close, dampened automatically because Jihoon hates it when people slam the door on him. They can see her as she walks out. Nayoung doesn’t turn back.

“You took too long to get here,” Jihoon says crossly when it shuts for sure, his voice bouncing within soundproof walls. “And then why didn’t you say something before she left?”

“What?”

“I really hate you, you know. Wasted effort.” He opens the sandwich wrapper and starts eating.

“Jihoon!”

“What I’m saying is,” Jihoon gets out when he finishes half the sub, “is that I gave you an opportunity. And you are hopeless. These things have to go both ways.”

Seungcheol absentmindedly twists random knobs on the soundboard and Jihoon doesn’t have it in him to object. “I was going to ask why she was here before you demanded your sandwich. And then... I didn’t want to make her stay.”

“To be fair, you were the one that offered to buy me one, so I was reasonably expecting it to come sooner than two hours after that conversation. I’ve been hungry ever since.”

“Yeah, so I don’t see how this is my fault! My money, my time!”

“I even made her do another set of takes,” Jihoon complains. “It turned out good a half hour ago, and you can only pretend recordings don’t turn out well so many times.”

Seungcheol leans in closer. “Is she featuring?”

“You’d know if you were here,” Jihoon says, grinning, and Seungcheol wants to wring his neck.

Jihoon is always right.

 

 

 

**2020.**

 

Press is allowed in the ballroom, but only to cover the keynote speakers of the event.

It’s when Nayoung realizes what this means that she feels a twinge of an odd feeling in her heart. It’s not normal for the center of attention not to be on her at these big award ceremonies. It isn’t as if she wants the attention; rather, she doesn’t want to get used to this, and the thoughts of what could be.

Still, she’s surrounded by strangers, and it’s easy to feel alone.

Somewhat alone, that is.

Three seats away from her clockwise around the table, Choi Seungcheol is playing with the tablecloth while talking to the director beside him. He’s probably fiddling with it because he’s hungry. She can guess, because that’s how she’s feeling, waiting for dinner to be served. The schedule is like this: a few pictures, networking, dinner, speakers, more introductions to Japanese entertainment businessmen Han Sung Soo has ties to and then they can leave. Now they’re in that transition state where they’ve made everyone sit down, but someone in the kitchen is holding up the operation, and all the guests are restless.

After getting carted around shyly by one of the Pledis directors earlier, she sat down at their company’s table, exhausted. It was silly because a few minutes after that, Seungcheol came over and he asked this:

“Mind if I sit here?” But he was pointing vaguely to the chair he’s sitting in now, and she nodded without understanding. They hadn’t exchanged another word before their managers filled in the spots between them.

It was strange. Very strange. Nayoung didn’t like that he had to ask at all, but things have changed.

On her right are a few more company board directors and beyond that, in this room full of tables just like their own, she knows absolutely no one, not even the faces passed before her with names in the last 30 minutes. Nayoung isn’t fluent in Japanese yet by any means, so it takes practice for her to digest introductions. She’ll have to go over the names with her manager later, which is fine - but she still feels lost in the crowd.

When they explained it to her, this party disguised as a prestigious ceremony, she made a face. Minkyung made one too, sitting beside her. But in the end it was decided that she was the only one that had to go.

“We just need the group’s representatives,” Director Lee said. “You’ll just be guests, regardless, there to model successful Korean idol groups.”

Minkyung didn’t have the heart to look relieved then. But what consumed Nayoung’s mind was the words that followed: with NU’EST’s leader JR busy on their world tour the date of the event, the director said, it would just be...

 

 

 

Seungcheol makes a bunch of jokes during dinner. It lightens the atmosphere, if only for her. The directors are used to these dry talks in foreign languages and perhaps her manager laughs a little, but not enough to draw the attention of people that would reprimand her.

Nayoung laughs a lot because of him. She didn't remember he was this funny. Maybe when she thinks about it, searches deep in her memory, this sound is one she knows, or one she used to know.

Crossing paths now is like seeing chances in front of her she could take but wouldn’t know what to do with. Both of them are so busy that there’s no such thing as naturally “hanging out” without having to jump through hoops and without this routine -

Without training after the school day ends and bumping into each other in the basement and having nothing better to do than talk, they don’t really know each other anymore. At one point, this is what she asked for.

A loud noise jolts her out of her thoughts. The second speaker is in the middle of talking, he has been for what might have been ages, and evidently he’s just said something funny because everyone is standing up.

It’s half-hearted laughs to be polite and the pushing of chairs across the floor that has her following the horde. He finishes his speech with an embellished greeting and leaves the stage to her relief. It’s not that she has anything against him - they’re all the same to her, who can’t make sense of what’s being said, and so they’re all equally insufferable.

The next speech is about economics, the translator whispers. Nayoung can read her lips, but Seungcheol has to ask her to say it again and leans over the table. When he sits back down, the end of his tie lands in the fish soup in front of him. It drips when he lifts it out, leaving streaks on his shirt.

She immediately shoots him a look and he’s mortified.

Seungcheol gets up and he mouths, _I’m gonna go to the bathroom._

Nayoung -

She considers the event right now - but she thinks it’s completely boring and the only joy of the whole night has been Seungcheol. She thinks of being responsible and listening to the presentations. As she looks at Seungcheol’s face, washed in blue shadows, Nayoung remembers the spotlight is not on them tonight.

There is a nagging feeling in the back of her mind about where this is going, but she ignores it. That thought is dangerous and something in her starts shaking.

“I don’t wanna be here alone,” she says almost inaudibly when he passes her, still sitting in her chair.

“Come,” he whispers. It sounds like it slips out of his mouth without reservations, in other words, not held back by thinking first. The heart over the head.

The only one that can see the fear on her face is Nayoung’s manager - she doesn’t try to stop her.

“Just go,” her manager insists. She understands Japanese much better than Nayoung does anyway.

 

 

 

The look on his face when they slide out the back door and into the illuminated hallway is almost indecipherable, not because he has no expression but because it almost feels like he’s expressing everything. Nayoung cannot possibly begin to interpret what that means.

Past the lobby, in a dead end corner of rooms, Seungcheol pulls the tie off, gripping his collar, loosening it. Nayoung can’t help, so all she can do is pretend not to watch.

“I don’t think that stain can be helped for now,” she says when he turns to face her, unambiguously now.

“Does it at least look presentable?” Seungcheol asks, in lieu of a bathroom mirror. Nayoung nods, kind of exhilarated at the thought of being considered a point of judgment - that really shouldn’t be so -

“It was a really dull speech,” Nayoung says, standing with no elegance, not sure what to do now.

“I was just gonna take off the tie and shove it in my pocket,” he says, “then go back.”

“You told me to come out,” she responds, leaving no room for deflection. Seungcheol looks at the floor and laughs.

“Yeah. I did.”

They hear applause through the double doors.

“Wanna take a walk outside?” Nayoung asks.

“I’d love nothing more,” Seungcheol answers.

 

 

 

They revert to “small talk about the weather,” and topics along those lines. Everything comes back to her, past memories of insignificant conversations and then, fantasies of those that might have meant something. Seungcheol walks quickly, the way he used to.

“I’m glad I’m not wearing the dress Kyungwon picked out for me at the stylist’s,” she says, wincing at the thought of the sleeveless shiny fabric and how she’d be freezing to death right now. It’s funny because at the time Kyungwon had said it would make her look hot.

“Kyungwon is pretty fashionable, from what I’ve seen,” Seungcheol says. “The blazer looks nice, though.”

“...You aren’t wrong. And. Thanks.” It comes out awkwardly. “I always liked the look of a jacket and pants on me better than dresses.”

“Me too,” he says, and she laughs at first because she thinks he’s just making a joke about himself, but then she can’t tell, and her breathing falters.

It’s kind of telling that he changes the subject hastily, but she tries not to think about that. He asks when she arrived, if she had any time to herself before the banquet. Nayoung had just taken the plane to Tokyo that morning with her manager. Seungcheol was already in Japan for Seventeen promotions that just ended, so the other boys returned home while he had a short extended stay.

“Unfortunate,” she says, deploring her own choice of words, when he says “returned home” with some recognizable kind of longing in his voice. She almost says “I’m sorry” too, but decides against it.

“It’s fine,” Seungcheol answers with a practiced laugh. “I’m used to it.” That, she thinks, makes it all the more worse.

“Don’t say that,” she says, frowning.

“Oh. I won’t. I’m sure - no, never mind,” he adds, hesitantly. “Ignore me.” This is something Nayoung hates now, when people start things, when they don’t finish them, when they leave her curious and wondering and anxious forever.

She can’t. “Okay.”

They talk about scheduling like they don't already know, from overhearing their own managers discuss the logistics of getting everyone together. The thing is that to Nayoung, it all sounds different when it comes out of Seungcheol’s mouth. It feels more real.

Nayoung keeps wondering what time it is, the moments fleeting and slipping through her fingers, and when their managers will call in a frenzy, but Seungcheol doesn’t look at his phone, so she doesn’t either.

“It’s been hard on you lately, right?” he asks. “I’ve heard a lot of rumors.”

“You overwork yourself, don’t you?” she asks back.

Carefully: “How would you know?” He is searching for something, she can tell - unless she’s made it up in her head -

Vulnerably: “Guesswork. Observing from far away. I noticed.”

And then just when her phone starts to chime Seungcheol says, “you know,” and then he stops because the phone is ringing, and Nayoung checks it and quickly swipes to end the call before it’s even started.

“You know,” he says again, “I like you.”

Everything grinds to a halt.

 

 

The phone rings again.

“Take it,” he says.

 

 

They have to walk back now.

Nayoung stands in the middle of the road and raises her eyes to his face. In that second, the way they shine, the way she smiles, nothing else matters.

Still, the glimmer fades, the heart stops, Nayoung’s groundedness and his responsibility - it comes crashing down in waves.

The tragic part about falling in love so lucidly is losing the secure, unwavering barrier of denial. Both of them realize this, and that’s why it feels so difficult; neither of them can pretend, so they are forced to do something about it, instead of holding it in, which would be fine for their careers, even if not for their hearts.

This way both of them are weakened and there’s this terrible, implicit question, something like, “will we try this?”

Nayoung breaks the silence first. “We shouldn’t. We have too much to give up now.”

Nayoung doesn’t know his dating history, but she can’t put him above a lot of relationships at least in the last 2 years. Nothing makes this impossible, not their circumstances nor the cultural climate. The only thing Seungcheol can see in her is that she’s scared.

There is a lot that he thinks she didn’t notice. Not the way he must have looked, because of the way he felt when she was laughing at dinner so hard she dropped chicken on the floor and covered her mouth in shock. Not the way he was watching her, too.  If not that, not the way he’s looked at her for ten years without even realizing what it meant. Jihoon has always said he was awfully transparent about his feelings. It’s what makes him such a good flirt.

It’s been so hard for him to tell, gauging her feelings by her reactions, when she keeps such a controlled, careful exterior. Now that he knows for sure, the relief is washed over with the fear of loss, but even greater, the fear of rushing it and ruining it for good.

“I don’t mind waiting,” he says, and his conviction in his own words brings a slow wave of comfort over him.

Seungcheol is visibly disappointed - but he is _so_ respectful of her decision which is because he’s a good person -  and it makes her fall harder and - no, not today, she won’t -

When he’s walking ahead in the dark, on impulse, Nayoung says “I love you.”

He stops short in his tracks.  Nayoung can’t even believe she said that but she knows that it’s true, so she doesn’t have any shame in saying it.

Without facing her he asks, “Isn’t it a little early to say that?”

And Nayoung says, “We did things a little backwards, so now we have to catch up.”

And he turns around, and his eyes are filled with love, and happiness and...

 

 

 

Anything and everything can go wrong because of this.

Seungcheol says to her, “We can worry about that later. Or never. Whatever you want.”

Everything in life is about sacrifices, but when you find what you really want there’s no choice that has to be made.

 

 

 

When Nayoung lands on the ground again, steps off the plane with a hand in hers, she laughs. It feels like a dream.

Seungcheol lets go without saying goodbye. Her own van pulls up to the curb and the staff member hauls her luggage into the trunk, all while she’s clasping her phone in her hands. How will she tell people? Seungcheol must have told his entire group already, she thinks, or he’s about to, but there’s no way she could do that right away.

In the car, she calls Minkyung.

“Unnie! You’re coming back soon? Everyone is sleeping still. Should I wake them up?” Minkyung sounds so excited to hear her and Nayoung struggles to keep her own voice level, steady as it usually is. The van itself jolts up and down with the uneven pavement.

“Even the sub-sub-leader?”

Nayoung hears a yelp over the line. “That was me kicking Kyungwon awake.”

“Oh, don’t...”

“It’s too late,” Kyungwon says faintly and groggily. “Minkyung, you -”

“Don’t you touch me there, Kang Kyungwon!”

Nayoung sighs. “I left someone great in charge.” Minkyung giggles.

“You always do.”

 

 

 

Their dance instructor comes in to help them choreograph one of their songs. Nayoung is given the hour off to rest and Minkyung is allowed to “debrief her” over lunch.

She reaches the dorm where Minkyung is waiting for her with food delivery.

“Thanks for coming back,” Minkyung says, pulling her into a tight hug.

Nayoung plays along, entertaining her. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“Well,” she pauses, “Seungcheol oppa was there. And only him, really. Haha.”

It’s been a long time since Minkyung has teased her about this but it’s so familiar and even now it fills her with butterflies. Nayoung takes a look at her and without saying anything, she walks to the bathroom to wash her face.

 

 

 

Minkyung is waiting at the kitchen table with her arms folded. Nayoung thinks she _has_ to know already but she can’t. Minkyung always pretends to know and Nayoung’s never cracked because it’s never really been true - she’s never _confessed,_ that is - but no matter how many times she splashes her face with water, she won’t wake up from this to see it isn’t.

“I...”

Minkyung laughs like the sound of bells. “Is this because of what I said earlier? Your face is flushed, unnie.”

“Is it?” Nayoung’s head swirls the way it did when he first said it, her heart cynical all over again, euphoria rushing in.

“You’re not even denying it,” Minkyung says. “Wait. You’re not? Is this really happening?”

“Um,” Nayoung says, reaching for words. She can’t hold her face any longer.

“Im Nayoung!!!”

Nayoung shakes, smiling. “Minkyung.”

 

 

 

“...You told Minkyung?” Seungcheol looks almost amused. Nayoung plays with the angle of her phone so her face comes out okay on the video call.

“Mhmm, but just her. Maybe she’ll let it slip to the others but I think she’ll try to be patient with me. One step at a time, right? I know you already told everyone.”

“I didn’t tell anyone though!”

Nayoung can’t speak for a second, processing, and Seungcheol breaks into laughter. Her face burns, but still, the sound of his voice through the static, it’s more than enough.

She holds her head in her left hand. “I’m so embarrassed... I thought you would brag...”

“I thought you would get flustered if I did without asking,” Seungcheol returns. “I thought you’d want it to be a secret.”

“This is ridiculous,” Nayoung says, wiping tears from her eyes.

Seungcheol looks to his left, the direction of the door to his room. “Yah, Yoon Jeonghan!”  

“What is it?” Jeonghan shouts back from the kitchen of their apartment.

“Oh no,” Nayoung whispers. The camera shakes as he grins, pixelated, the brightness of love shining on his face.

“I’M IN LOVE WITH IM NAYOUNG!”

“CONGRATULATIONS! WE ALL KNEW!”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> please leave a comment if you enjoyed, i’d love to talk to more friends about ny/sc... i’m also on twitter [@likewaterising](https://twitter.com/likewaterising) for writing (& [@haengseol](https://twitter.com/haengseol)).


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